Words
by Blue Roses
Summary: AU: Treize meets an author named Zechs Marquise. Yaoi 13x6.


Words

Words

A Treize/Milliardo AU fic by Blue Roses

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of Gundam wing mentioned in this fic. 

This is an AU. The backstory is completely different to that of Gundam Wing. It contains yaoi,or m/m pairings, so be warned.

***

The latest Zechs Marquise novel was in the bookshop when Treize Khushrenada stopped by. He quickly bought a copy, then got back into his car and drove home. The large house was empty when he got back, a fact that he was profoundly grateful for. He was fond of his relations, but it had taken days for them all to leave after the family reunion he had hosted.

He climbed the stairs to his study, and settled in his easy chair to read the book. Two hours later he looked up, realising that the light was fading. He went to switch on the light and close the curtains, wondering for a minute whether to get something to eat, but deciding that the book was getting too interesting to wait.

It was a fantasy book like the author's previous ones. The story revolved around a battle, but it was the fate of the characters which was important, not the result of the war. Trieze was especially taken with a young man named Lionel, who was having a moral crisis, because he had fallen in love with the captain of the enemy forces, who also happened to be a man. Things were further complicated by the fact that he was expected to soon marry the telepathic princess of one of his father's allies.

One chapter before the end of the book, Treize rose from his chair, and went downstairs to his kitchen to make a sandwich. He didn't want the book to end yet, he wanted to stretch out the magic just a little while longer. He placed the book in front of him as he ate, tempted to read and eat at the same time, but compromising with himself by eating even faster than he usually did. 

When he had finally finished the impromptu meal, Treize settled down on the sofa to finish the book. The last page came far too quickly. The plot was resolved, Lionel got out of marrying his alien bride, and everyone ended more or less happily ever after, except of course for the evil characters, and Trieze, who wished the story could have continued.

Treize got up to put the book away on a bookshelf, but he couldn't convince himself that it was time to sleep, so he went back to his study to see if he could do anything on his latest project. He'd been invalided out of the army the previous year because of a leg injury he'd got whilst trying to repair a bridge which was under fire. His family meant he didn't have to work to support himself, but to keep himself amused he had got a book organising and editing a book of short stories.

He turned on his laptop, and reviewed the submissions he had gained so far. Although they were all very high quality, he didn't feel like reading them after the novel he had just finished. If only he could get a Zechs Marquise story for his book. He dismissed the idea almost at once, but then thought about it again. Why shouldn't he try and get a Zechs Marquise story? The man was a writer after all, he might well contribute to a collection of short stories.

Firstly, Treize went back to the book he had been reading to check that Zechs Marquise was actually alive and still writing, after all, it wouldn't be good trying to solicit a story from an author who was dead, or who had changed profession. 

There was the author's biography on the first page:

"Zechs Marquise is the best-selling author of 'Here Comes a Candle' and 'Blowing Square Bubbles'. He has been a full time novelist since 1996, and lives in Chicago."

Well, that didn't reveal much, but at least it meant that he was probably still alive, and he'd probably be quite easy to reach, since Treize was also living in Chicago. Treize rung his publisher, and left a message on her machine:

"Ellie, it's Treize. I just read the latest Zechs Marquise novel, and I though it'd be great if we could ask him to write a story for the book. Do you have any idea how we could contact him? Oh, and I've got some ideas about the title, I'll ring you later and we can discuss them. See you soon."

He hung up, feeling happier now he had done something, and decided to try and get some sleep.

The next day dawned bright and early, and Treize was up to see the spectacular sunrise, because he had decided to go for an early morning jog. As he ate a late breakfast afterwards, he saw the red light flashing on his answer phone, telling him someone had left a message. He went over to the machine and listened to it:

"Treize, hi, it's Ellie here. I got your message from last night. I think it's a great idea. I had a bit of luck, I was working with Zechs Marquise's agent, she's really nice, and she gave me his telephone number when I told her about it and she said to phone and ask him. I've got the number here, could you phone him? It's..." 

She read out a number with a local area code, and Treize replayed the tape to write it down. He was surprised that this had been so easy. He picked up the phone and dialled.

***

Milliardo Peacecraft, better known to many as the author Zechs Marquise, lay in bed looking vaguely out of the window. It wasn't necessary for him to get up, he reasoned, since the only thing he had to do today was write and he could write better later on. If he stayed in bed now he could go to bed later at night and it was so nice here at the moment, comfortable and safe. He dosily rolled onto his side, unfortunately pulling his hair as he did so, which wasn't difficult as it was so long. The discomfort pulled him out of his sleepy mood, so he stretched and got out of bed.

He headed to the bathroom, and switched on the shower. As usual, it was cold, but it helped him wake up. His morning coffee also helped, and by the time he sat down with it and a cream cheese bagel, he was awake enough to fully appreciate the sunlight streaming into his apartment and he went to the window to take advantage of it, and see how the city looked this morning.

He was still standing there looking at the city, which looked fresh and different in the morning light, when the phone rang. He looked over at it and decided that he wouldn't pick it up. That was his 'work' phone: the people closest to him knew he often travelled to research his books, or to look for inspiration, or occasionally to help with publicity for book launches, so they phoned him on his cell phone, or emailed if they couldn't reach him. The people who usually phoned on his home phone were either trying to sell him something, or pestering for publicity. He didn't really like giving interviews, they made him uncomfortable and he hated having his photograph taken, so he let his answer phone deal with the call.

He heard the machine beep, then it played the message being recorded. Milliardo was mildly surprised to hear that the person phoning him was British, with a clear yet agreeable tone.

"This is Treize Khushrenada. I was looking for Zechs Marquise. I'm organising a book of short stories and I was wondering whether you would be interested in contributing something. It's a fantasy anthology, we've got some submissions already..."

He went on to describe the book and the authors already involved, some of them whose work Milliardo enjoyed, and then left a telephone number suggesting that 'Zechs Marquise' phone him back if he was interested.

Milliardo bent over the machine, staring at it as if it would answer his questions about the man who had just called him. He didn't usually write short stories, in fact he had written very few, but he did have one that might suit the anthology. He had got quite a few similar offers, but none of them had intrigued him as much as this one had. 

Listening to the tape again he admitted to himself that it was perhaps not the request but the man making it that interested him. He couldn't tell what it was, but he thought it was his voice. There was a quality to it which was assured and yet somehow welcoming at the same time. Whatever it was, he sounded like a nice guy.

Zechs decided that there couldn't be any harm in phoning him back, he didn't have to commit to anything, and after all his friends had been nagging him to go out and meet some guys. He didn't think this was quite what they had in mind, but it was a step in the right direction. He hadn't talked to anyone new for a while, writing tended to take over his life when he was in the middle of a book. He'd just finished the last one, so he'd decided to take a break.

Picking up the phone he dialled the number and waited for a reply.

***

Treize Khushrenada sighed. He hadn't been expecting an answer machine, so it had thrown him a bit, and that annoyed him, because he really didn't want to sound like an idiot in front of someone he respected.

When the phone rang, he picked it up, not expecting it to be Zechs Marquise, because he thought he had messed it up somehow, so the deep voice he recognised from the answer machine message was a complete surprise. He managed to keep his cool, though, a few years in the army had shown him how to cope under pressure if nothing else.

"Hi. I was looking for Treize Khushrenada?"

"Yes, I'm Treize."

"I'm Zechs Marquise, you just phoned me. I think I might have a story that would fit in your anthology."

"That would be wonderful. I'd like to read it. I really enjoyed your latest novel."

"Thanks. Look, do you want to meet up somewhere to discuss this? I'm not too fond of talking on the phone."

"Yes, that would be nice. What about for dinner this evening. We could meet in a cafe somewhere."

"Sounds good. I know just the place. It's on fourth, a little place with blue shutters."

"I know it. What time would you like to meet?"

"Say about 8?"

"Excellent. I'll see you then."

Treize spent most of the rest of the day pretending to himself that he was working, but actually trying to imagine what it would be like to meet Zechs Marquise. He'd met other authors before, some of them quite famous, but most of them he had known a little more about before, and he had almost always seen a picture. There didn't seem to be any pictures of Zechs Marquise, in fact someone had told him that that wasn't his real name, although he rather doubted that. He assumed that he was just fond of his privacy, and liked to be left alone.

He arrived at the restaurant about a quarter of an hour early, and sat at a table, reading the menu to keep himself occupied. He had decided what he would like when someone sat down in the chair opposite him.

Treize looked up, startled, into the blue eyes of a gorgeous young blond man who had seated himself in front of him. He wished for a moment that he hadn't come in here for business, so he could get to know this guy better. Then the man before him spoke.

"Hi, are you Treize Khushrenada? I'm Zechs Marquise."

Treize was stunned. This blond vision was Zechs Marquise? His confusion must have shown, because the man who had professed to be Zechs Marquise looked at him in concern.

"What is it?"

"I wasn't expecting you to be so attractive." 

Treize spoke without thinking, then blushed, realising what he had just said. He looked up, and Zechs was blushing as well.

"Thank you. I didn't expect you to be so attractive either. So, you're into guys?"

Treize nodded, deciding not to trust his voice. 

"So am I" said Zechs. They sat there for a minute Treize's hand playing with a packet of sugar, until he pulled himself back together. He cleared his throat and said:

"So, tell me about this story you've written."

***

The rest of the evening was spent discussing the anthology and Zech's story, but it was obvious that neither of the men had forgotten their earlier conversation. Milliardo spent a long time looking at Treize, confirming his opinion that the man was indeed very attractive. He was cautiously flirtatious, not knowing if he had really meant what he had said earlier, but when his advances weren't dismissed, he decided to gamble.

"Would you like to come back to my apartment to see the story?" He asked, trying to keep his tone as innocent as possible, but not quite managing it.

"Yes, I'd love to" said Treize, his voice deeper than usual, showing that he realised that this invitation wasn't just to look at a story. They paid the bill, and Milliardo, who had taken the train to the restaurant, got into Treize's car and directed him to his apartment.

When they arrived, Milliardo fetched the manuscript for his guest to read. He was absurdly grateful when Treize complemented him on the apartment, and he realised that it was because he hadn't done anything like this for a long time. He couldn't remember the last time he had invited such a gorgeous man back to his apartment. He'd forgotten the rules, if there had ever been any. He didn't know what to do.

Treize, luckily, looked completely relaxed, so he settled on the sofa next to him, and watched as he read the story. Emotions flickered across his face as he read, anger for one character, sorrow about another. He seemed totally open, vulnerable almost. On Treize it was very attractive.

Finally he stopped reading.

"Did you like it?" asked Milliardo.

"Yes, very much."

They looked at each other, the tension from earlier back, but stronger this time. They could both feel it, and it seemed natural when Milliardo leant forward and put his lips to Treises' in a kiss.

Milliardo was blown away, not only by the kiss, although it was wonderful, but by the feeling of strong arms coming to encircle him. He pushed deeper into the embrace, nearer to Treize, and the arms wrapped more tightly around him.

They shifted back, and Treize pulled away to murmur "Zechs, do you want this?" The question reminded Milliardo that there was something he still had to tell Treize.

"Treize, I'm not Zechs."

"What?" Treize looked confused and a little worried.

"No, I mean they are my books, but that's not my real name. It's a pen name."

Treize's look turned to comprehension and then to amusement "So what is your real name, if you don't mind telling me?"

"Of course not. My name's Milliardo. Milliardo Peacecraft."

"Milliardo." Treize savoured the name.

"Do you mind that I didn't tell you?"

"No, I don't mind really. My original question still stands, though, do you want this Milliardo?"

"Yes Treize, I want it, I want it all." Milliardo took Treize's hand and lead him to the bedroom, then let himself be pushed down on the white sheets.

Treize took his mouth again, and this time the kiss was harder, more demanding. He gave himself over to it, savouring the power that he had given this man he'd just met. There was something extremely erotic in that, yet he wanted to know more about Treize, wanted to know everything. How he tasted, how he felt, what he thought. He couldn't get enough.

Treize worked his way down Milliardo's body and the thoughts became more basic, chased away by waves of sensation. They made love twice, the second time sweeter and less hurried than the first, Trieze whispering sweet nothings to Milliardo, who was writhing beneath him. Then they slept, curled into each other's warmth, content and complete.

***

Just after dawn, Zechs woke up and grabbed his writing pad from where it lay beneath his bed, and began to write, lying with Treize beside him.

The story that Treize finally put into the anthology was not the one that he had originally intended, but a love story. The story of two people who met for the first time, and realised they were right for one another. The story of two souls who had found happiness together. 

It was, according to those who read it, the best thing that Zechs Marquise had ever written. As one woman who read it said "I wish I could have been the woman who inspired that." Treize smiled as he heard that, and looked at Milliardo, who smiled back.

The End.


End file.
